Selah (2/?)
Title: Selah: Cause and effect
Author: Mikhala_c
Rating: R, maybe
Pairing: Hints of Gabriel/Raphael and Gabriel/Michael
Spoilers: 5x08 if that's even a spoiler....
Warnings: Religious themes, angelcest, cursing, and (of course) a bit of blasphemy
Disclaimer: I own them not.
Summary: Gabriel finds himself judged and punished.
Note: Second installment.
"This is where you say you are sorry, Jibrael."
Raguel.
Just great.
Gabriel spins back around to glare at the source of the voice.
Only to find himself wasting a perfectly good dirty look on empty space.
"Gabriel?"
He knows Castiel is trying to sort through the last few seconds to figure out if they've just upset each other or if Gabriel had noticed something he hadn't. There wasn't really much to notice.
Aside from the lack of gore outside now and the sudden quiet from the Winchesters.
Gabriel didn't believe for a second that Raguel just popped in to critique his skills as a big brother and play Merry Maid. He's already scanning the horizon for signs of the trap he knew -knew- had to be there but he could find nothing. He could just leave the moment as it is, brush his little brother off, blame it all on Raguel and move on.
He blames the fact he doesn't on the damn puppy eyes and the fact that he can feel just how much Cas needed something from him. He sighs and shuts the door before sidestepping away from the other angel. If they are going to talk he wants his space. "Look, I didn't mean that the way it came out. I'm just surprised I resorted to that, okay? Dirty limericks are more my style so don't take it personally. I bet you got flowers and glitter covered notes back at the garrison all the time."
There is a world of secrets behind Castiel's strange blue eyes and Gabriel doesn't miss or mistake the flash of pain and embarrassment that flitters through them. "I...was not bonded. Uriel and Caduel courted me sometimes so I was not alone, but I wasn't worthy yet."
"Who told you that?" He managed to keep his tone even with only a bit of polite inquiry. Castiel might have even believed he was only curious if Winchester hadn't ruined it by being a baby.
Dean gasped and clutched at his hip. Sam was there in a flash trying to get him to lay down on one of the beds but everytime the hunter moved he let out another hiss. "Sonovabitch! This burns. What the hell, Princess? You have ebola spit?"
Castiel looked over at his charge then back at Gabriel and he knew the calm face wasn't going to cut it.
"You are angry."
"I might be just a little."
"I do not think you want to hurt Dean more than you have. You must calm down, Gabriel."
He knows Cas is right, but knowing and doing are two very different things. He just can't wrap his mind around any angel telling another such things. Worthy. As if the measure of family was ever meant to be quantified in such a fashion. As if one can earn affection like a dog earns biscuits. He feels sick to his stomach when he finally get the first dawning hint of just how far his brothers have slid since Father vanished.
"Guys? I don't want to interrupt, but Dean's burning up here."
All it takes is a look to confirm Sam's statement and remind Gabriel that actions in the heat of the moment have far reaching consequences. Words and thoughts leave him as he catches the whispers on the wind. Its been so long since he tuned into 'angel radio' as the Winchesters called it, he almost forgot the sensation.
He almost didn't recognize the sounds of his brethren's approach until it was too late.
There wasn't time to explain or ask permission before he sent the others away. He didn't place much thought as to where he was sending them; only trusted Castiel to direct them once they were far enough away from the Congress of Archangels.
Gabriel takes wing the second the echo of his snap fades in the room.
He is not fast enough.
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The absence of awareness is a frightening thing for an angel but when the world returns Gabriel wishes fervently it had not. His skin feels too warm and the faint scar under his eye aches, but that all falls secondary when he tries to sit up and pain washes through him. It arches his spine to the point of hearing vertebra crack.
He doesn't scream.
There is more heat as something presses down on his chest and forces him down against the searing agony. It pushes until the cold of marble soaks into his back and the pain ebbs. "Be still, Gabriel." His eyes roll wide for a moment before he manages to focus on the source of the voice. "What?" He tried to force the word out but he loses it halfway. His brother seemed to follow well enough and the hand lifted from his chest to run lightly through his hair. It was probably meant to be comforting.
It failed.
"You ran. I could not allow you to do so a second time. It has taken us so long to find you already." Gabriel jerked his head away from Michael's soothing touch and in doing so sent another sharp slice of pain straight to his brain. When it faded this time his throat hurt and water had leaked down the sides of his face. There would have been horror at the concept of tears if there hadn't been terror shoving it away.
Terror that came from looking up the length of the golden edged spear buried into the ground near his shoulder.From his angle he could clearly read the angelic script that proudly proclaimed, God Heals. He didn't need to look beyond this realm to know that it had buried in his Grace and pinned some of his wings.
Raphael had struck him down.
Michael was trying to speak to him. Tell him how it would be once they returned home. Forgave him for falling prey to decadence and his own nature. It was worse than being called a coward; cowards choose to be that. Michael called him a lost child like he was too simple to understand what he'd done or he was an animal that couldn't be expected to know better. He was a messenger without a message so it was reasonable he'd gone astray.
Gabriel forced himself to look at his brothers. Look at the ones he loved most out of all and the shadowed figures that had come with them.
They looked at him with such pity.
So he told them what they could do with a goat.
Michael knelt down and covered his mouth with his hand. "You are not listening; so we will give you time to think. I will return for you later."
It didn't solve anything but Gabriel gave into his decadent urges and bit the hand.
He was alone before he even processed that all the action did was make his teeth hurt.
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He tried to struggle against the spear but it didn't do him any good; there was only so much movement he could tolerate before the pain robbed him of will.
The sun rose and set with Gabriel sprawled across the floor of what looked to be some old mausoleum. He had a good chuckle at being buried alive before he choked it off.
No need to sound hysterical.
The sun rose and set. His hair was sticky with something but snapping proved to be a fat lot of good; Raphael's spear was draining his Grace to keep him pinned. He'd already counted the ceiling tiles sixty-eight times and sucked his lips free of the chocolate flavored gloss.
The sun rose and set. He spent so time wondering if he'd sent the others far enough to keep them out of Michael's reach. Dean would be safe enough but Sam and Castiel? Gabriel shuddered to think of what that little family intervention would be like. It wouldn't last long for Castiel atleast. The dull ache under his eye reminded him of what he'd done and he wondered if relative distance to the Winchesters was directly related to one's levels of sanity and mental resistance.
The sun rose and set. His body was shaking and he couldn't stop it. He spent the daylight alternating between screaming his brother's names and cursing them. He fell into insults around noon but the 'Yo momma' jokes just weren't satisfying. None of them had a mother.
Maybe that was their problem.
It had to be theirs because his problem was simpler; it revolved around the steady ache in his spine and the name that hovered on the tip of his tongue. The name he wouldn't call because he bet it would be the brother who would come for him. This one time he didn't want to be right.....
The sun set and rose. He laughed at that because it was a very nifty trick.
The light slanted across his eyes and made them itch. The shaking had finally eased down into a barely there shiver and he didn't want to move enough to shade himself from the glaring brightness; it might set off the fire in his wings again.
Right now it was just toasty enough for marshmellows.
The light cut off. Gabriel opened his eyes and looked up at the face poised upside down over his own. "Hey, beautiful." His voice broke and caught but he still managed a grin for the one kneeling over him. Azriel stroked a cool hand over his brow. The shivers stopped and the burn faded away enough for Gabriel to risk reaching up to brush his fingers over the tattoo that graced his brother's cheeks. Whom God Helps.
"Can't go with you gorgeous. Got a group of idiots who need me." Azriel turns his head to regard the spear but does not speak. Gabriel knows that Azriel's voice is the most beautiful of all; the problem is, you only get to hear it once and he's not in a rush to get to that just yet. "Not them... that ended long ago." Pale fingers brush over the shaft of the spear and ice sinks in where fire once held dominion. Gabriel lets out a shaky laugh as his teeth start to chatter. "You are being the opposite end of helpful right now, Az."
He doesn't see much more than the puzzled tilt of the other Archangel's head before something frighteningly close to sleep overcomes him.
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"To sleep.... perchance to dream....there's the rub...what dreams may come." He was telling Sam why it was bad to be tired but the kid didn't seem to follow so he wander off into analogies his college fed cranium could follow.
"This is the stupidest idea we've ever had. You're serious about pulling that thing out like this?"
"Cas said something about 'it was not meant to be moved by the likes of myself'. I don't see many other options here."
"What if we make it worse?"
"I don't know, Sammy, but I figure Gabriel doesn't want to be left like that. I mean...come on, its Gabriel."
Gabriel is snickering over the fact that Dean uses him being himself like its an excuse when Castiel is kneeling over him in the same fashion as Azriel had. He furrows his brow in confusion, but before he can ask any of the thoughts slithering through his liquid brain Castiel braces his his hands down on his shoulders. He can feel the tension in his little brother's arms as an engine revs.
There is a moment of harsh echoing sounds before he hears the terrible sound of Raphael's spear ripping free from the stone floor.
It rips chunks of stone and Grace without distinction as it comes free and Castiel doesn't have the strength to hold him down.
He can feel his brother's arms wrap tight around his chest as he screams over the loss.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If his wings had not been, in effect, dead already the Winchesters might have killed him when they pulled the spear out.
He wanted to be angry over the whole thing but he couldn't manage it; he was free and he still had 547 wings to pick up the slack.
No big.
He has no clue where Castiel took them both but its some nameless motel out of a thousand and hours roll by before that ugly car comes roaring up. His brother hasn't let him go yet and Gabriel doesn't have the energy to pry him off so they sit, slumped together between the beds as the time passes. The tiny scar on his face is burning red hot and the soft celestial hymn of Castiel's presence is trying so very hard to comfort him.
He lets it go on until the door swings open and he sees the concern in the hunter's faces. He shoves Castiel away with sticky hands before struggling to his feet. He knows better than to try to fly in his state so he tries leaving on foot.
He gets all of two feet before everything below his knees gives up the ghost and sends him sprawling forward in an undignified heap.
A pair of steady arms meet him and stop his fall.
"Gabriel?"
He lets his head slump forward and addresses his comments to the belt buckle in front of him. "I'm here....."
"Glad we covered that. You need to lie down."
"Been lying down for days. Not as comfortable as you would think."
The belt buckle doesn't answer this time and he finds himself passed off to Sam before he's muscled onto one of the beds. He can barely hear the conversation but between the three of them they decide to leave him on his stomach.
He's just too tired to fight.
The sun sets and this time the world is cast in the blue light of the cheap television. Around the time Leno comes on Castiel kneels by the bed with a brush in hand and set to work cleaning the dirt from his hair. Late night television gives way to infomercials and he can hear the soft steady breathing of the humans as they sleep. Castiel perched on the edge of the bed next to him and when Gabriel reached out to hook his fingers in the fabric of the trench coat the other angel merely turned his head slightly to look at him.
They don't speak but its good enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Did you want some pancakes?"
Gabriel looks away from the window to stare at the offered styrofoam tray before following the line of too long arms up to look Sam in the eyes. He's cleaned, dressed, and out of the bed. After two days of recovery he figures it would be called an epic win on his part but apparently Sam doesn't think someone's healed until they're eating.
Given a lifetime with Dean, Gabriel could see where he'd draw that conclusion.
"No thanks, kiddo."
Sam just nods and starts to move away before Gabriel caves just a bit. "You could leave me the syrup packets though."
He so did not smile as the younger Winchester moved eagerly to fish the packets out of the tray and he most certainly ignored the warm feeling the gesture brought with it.
The syrup was still warm and just on that edge of buttery to make it awesome.
He was on his second packet before the quiet proved too good to be true. Dean shifted on the bed where he was sprawled and cleared his throat.
"What is it, Winchester?"
"Look. I know this isn't the best time to play twenty questions but if we wait until its convenient we'll never get to it."
"Eloquent. I repeat myself; what is it, Winchester? "
The scar starts to burn again and Dean shoves himself upright on the bed glaring. "You know what? You want to be a bitch? Fine." Gabriel watches the hunter get to his feet only to see him favor his hip and press his palm hard against the mark hiding there. There is a flare of satisfaction at the sight but it only makes him angrier. He shouldn't be happy to cause undeserved pain...
Suddenly, Castiel is there between them. "Stop this, Gabriel. You are feeding your wrath into each other." His brother glances back and forth between them before taking a step back. "If there is any trait Dean does not need to share with you it would be that."
Gabriel felt a flicker of amusement at that. Cas was right, the world didn't need a more hotheaded and reckless version of Dean. He looks away from both of them to see Sam staring at him from across the room. The naked concern in his eyes was almost painful to see.
He sighs softly and mutters under his breath about the cosmic joke that is the power of little brother eyes.
"Alright. I'm.....that thing where I admit I may have acted poorly. You have questions? Shoot. They must be doozies if their out of Castiel's paygrade."
He shrugs off Castiel's whispered thanks and switches his focus back to the hunter standing in front of him. "Well?"
Dean struggles for a moment with his temper before he tries speaking. "Cas keeps talking about this flock thing.."
"Poor translation, but English isn't the best language for complex social concepts."
"Right...moving on. He called us your flock which, fine, whatever. We've been hanging out for almost two months now so I can see getting attached."
"Gratious of you." He gets two matching sharp looks from opposite sides of the room. They're ganging up on him now...
"What I don't get is the biting. That and everytime you get pissed off it feels like my skin is going to catch on fire."
"A side effect of the bite. I can feel it when you get pissed too, Winchester, which is a lot more often than me." He reaches up to brush a finger over the scar and smirks at the way the green eyes track the movement. Dean catches himself and looks away quickly.
Suddenly fascinated by the wallpaper no doubt.
"Okay, not the first crazy magical side effect we've dealt with, but back to the actual biting. Cas has been mum on that whole thing."
"Its a mark. Part of a ritual that...flocks.....engage in. To be honest I barely remember doing it, let alone the thought I was having at the time. I get a bit single minded in a fight..."He lets it trail off there but the expectant look he's getting doesn't bode well for letting things lie. "I shouldn't even consider you bond material. Being human aside, you are an infant by age comparison. Hell, Castiel is a teenager...."
"Gabriel." The tone is a warning and a command to get back on topic. It shouldn't affect him the way it does but he feels his pulse race in response. He turned his face to stare back out the window, hoping the distraction would make the conversation go easier.
"The abridged version is that it means I trust you. Specifically, I trust you to watch my back in battle. Flocks are made up of a collection of interconnected bonds. Angels are not meant to be alone so we are given two families; the one you are born into and then the one you make closer on your own. When you start courting you are looking for individuals that can give you what you need to be safe and happy. The trick is, unless you can give the other angel something they need in return the bond won't take." It was then that something occurred to him and he turned back to stare Dean dead in the eye.
"After that fight I must have figured you were good enough to guard my back which makes a strange amount of sense. The real question here is this: since its obvious the bond took, what did you need from me?"
He thinks for a moment he's going to get his answer but Dean dodges him by heading back and picking at something else.
"Wait a second here. We'll get to that in a minute but I want to go back to this courting stuff. We're talking like this is a dating/marriage sort of thing. I'm not husband material."
Gabriel can appreciate trying to diffuse a difficult situation with jokes.
He laughs and smiles before waving the suggestion off. "Very funny, but you don't need to worry." He let the first edges of relief trickle over the hunter's face before he continued.
"Like I said before; this doesn't translate well into english. To sum it all up though, I marked you first." The grin that split his face was almost too big to be comfortable. "You're the wife."